


There’s Always a Side Door Into the Dark

by Bittersweet_in_Boston



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Harm to a major character, Into The Unknown, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Steve Rogers, Robbery, Rufus the rooster, So much kissing, The quantum realm, astrophysicist Bucky Barnes, burn it all down, magic Narnian apples, quantum physicist Steve Rogers, ”Joint research”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28906944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet_in_Boston/pseuds/Bittersweet_in_Boston
Summary: “I can’t wait to go in and find out,” says Bucky excitedly, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. “I just can’t wait. We should bring a phone or a camera, though, to record everything so we remember it all when we come back.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you suppose we’ll find the fountain of youth? Or magic apples that cure all your ills? Or that everyone over there is exactly like us except their skin is green?”Steve laughs at his adorable, ridiculous husband who sounds like he’s about ten years old right now. Then he shakes his head.“We need to do some more tests and make some more preparations before we head in there, Bucky,” he says. “It’s gonna take a few weeks, I think.”Now it’s Steve’s turn to hesitate before speaking again. “And Buck, I’m not losing you in this world, and I’m definitely not losing you in an alternate dimension.” He turns to kiss Bucky on the top of his head. “And those magic apples were in Narnia, love, not in an alternate universe.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	There’s Always a Side Door Into the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: there is a depiction of violence during a crime and serious harm to a major character in this story. I didn’t tag Major Character Death because it’s technically not true, but the harm is not insignificant. I left the end ambiguous so feel free to imagine what happens next! If you want the unambiguously happy ending, stop reading when Steve and Bucky fall asleep after the sexytimes.

“And so, Peter, when we’re in the lab next week, you’ll need to remember to use Planck’s constant as we’re detecting the spectra of the different atoms, OK? You had a little trouble with that on our last quiz.”

Steve looks up and smiles at his undergraduate student as they sit at the work table near his desk, laptops open, papers strewn everywhere. Steve’s a quantum physics professor at Columbia and his office hours have been busy this afternoon, but Peter’s the last student on the schedule. And even though Steve points out Peter’s most recent wobble, he’s not concerned at all - Peter Parker is a star student and will go far.

They’re just finishing up their review session when there’s a knock on Steve’s door.

“Come in!” Steve calls as Peter shoves his laptop in a sleeve into his backpack, which has a Spider-Man patch prominently displayed on the front pocket.

The door opens and a dark, tousled head peers around the frame. Peter sees who it is and does a double take.

“Professor Barnes,” he says, blushing and getting a little flustered. “I didn’t know you knew Professor Rogers. I mean...of course you know Professor Rogers, you’re both in the same department but I didn’t realize...” He stops, suddenly aware that he’s babbling.

Professor Barnes grins.

“Yeah, I know Steve,” he says, eyes dancing as he looks at Peter. “We’re very good... _colleagues_. I’m just here to confer with him about...some joint research that we’re conducting.” He looks at Steve and Peter and runs his left hand through his long hair. The plain gold band on his ring finger glints in the dull afternoon light. “But if office hours are still on, I can come back later...”

“Oh no no no,” Peter cuts him off. “Professor Rogers and I are done. We’re getting ready for a laser spectroscopy experience in the lab next week and I wanted to make sure I understood...” He spouts some science jargon for a minute or two, and then stops, reddening again.

“But of course, Professor Barnes, you know all about that, even I know though your s-specialty is...is astrophysics,” stutters Peter. He looks at the floor. “I’m sorry to blather on like that.”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up and clapping Peter on the shoulder. “I’m sure Professor Barnes is very impressed with your knowledge and diligence. And besides,” he says, looking at the other man mischievously, “he can always use a refresher on quantum mechanics, focus his head on particles here on Earth rather than celestial bodies millions of miles away.”

A look passes between the two older men and Peter intercepts it with surprise and confusion. He knows there’s more going on between the professors than they’re letting on, but he’s too well brought-up to pry. He had no idea these two had any kind of relationship, but he’s generally not one to think about his professors as people outside the classroom.

Suddenly Peter’s phone alarm pings and he realizes he’s got to grab a snack before study group in fifteen minutes.

“Well, professors, gotta go,” Peter announces. “Professor Rogers, I’ll see you in class on Friday and Professor Barnes, nice to see you and I’m looking forward to your Astronomy seminar next semester.”

“Well, Peter, I’m on sabbatical next semester,” Barnes says smoothly. “But Professor Wilson is teaching that class then and he’s excellent. I think you’ll really like him.”

“Sounds good,” says Peter. “OK, bye, professors!” And he skitters out the door so fast that the two older men barely see him leave.

Professor Barnes follows him to the door and locks it behind him. As he does so he feels hot breath on his neck and smiles lazily, turning around slowly, anticipation pulsing through his body. Steve is right there, eyes dark, using the three inches he has on Barnes to loom over him.

“Professor Rogers,” Barnes says, looking into Steve’s eyes, blue as the sea. His voice is calm and low but there’s a thread of want stitched through it.

Steve’s mouth opens, his full lips shining. “Professor Barnes,” he says. And then “Bucky” comes out in a growl as he leans in to fasten his lips on the other man’s. The kiss is sweet but it quickly turns heated and urgent, and Steve revels in the moan he pulls from Bucky’s throat as he forces Bucky to open up for him.

They kiss passionately for a few minutes, then seem to remember at the same time that they’re standing in an office, scruffy and worn but comfortable, in an old building on 120th Street. They laugh and pull apart a little regretfully, Steve going in for one last nibble on Bucky’s red, kiss-bitten lips. Steve would be the first person to tell you that, even after so many years together, he still finds his husband irresistible. 

Bucky smiles, eyes lidded, and licks the spot that Steve just kissed. It’s clear that he’s no less smitten with his husband.

“This is a very, very nice welcome to your office,” Bucky purrs. “But I do actually want to confer with you about our...joint research.”

At those last two words Steve’s eyes widen and the air around them thickens with a different kind of excitement.

“Really, Buck?” he says. His body stiffens and he manhandles Bucky over to the little work table to sit him down where Peter was sitting minutes before. Steve is a _specimen_ and his size and sheer physical presence are intimidating to many of his students and colleagues. Bucky finds it exhilarating and thrills to Steve’s dominance, both here and in the bedroom.

He pulls out a folder from his laptop bag. The nature of their “joint research” has kept all of their notes and calculations off electronic devices for safety and security reasons. Bucky rifles through the papers in the folder until he finds the sheet he’s looking for, covered in equations. He pulls it out and sets it in front of Steve.

“Look,” Bucky says triumphantly to his partner. He sets a delicate finger under a particular equation toward the bottom of the page. Steve studies it for a moment, and his mouth drops open.

“Holy shit, Buck,” says Steve in an awed tone. “That’s it! That’s...how did you think of it? We’ve been stuck for weeks.”

“It’s based on Fury’s Theory, right?” Bucky asks. Steve nods. “I dreamt about that fucker last night, and while I was standing in line at Blue Java this morning I remembered the dream and put the pieces together.”

“Daaaamn,” says Steve, shaking his head. “I got a brilliant husband.” He leans over in his chair and tenderly kisses Bucky’s cheek, then shakes his head again and snorts.

“So we have Fury to thank for this,” Steve says, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “He’s gonna be insufferable when we tell him.” The two men grin at each other, remembering their irascible theoretical physics prof at Caltech, now retired, who was just as intimidating and dominant as Steve is now, if not more so. Then Bucky goes serious.

“The question, though, Stevie,” he says thoughtfully, “is... _do_ we tell him? Do we tell anyone? If these calculations hold and the experiment works...a lot of people are going to be very interested. Probably much too interested. And Fury might feel like he had a duty to tell others, even if we asked him to keep it secret for now.”

Steve’s mouth turns down. “That’s very true,” he replies, a tinge of grimness and bitterness edging his tone. “Fury always had a lot of faith in the authorities to do the right thing. Much of it misplaced.” He shakes his head yet again and the two men look at each other as they think it through. The air in the room around them is quiet, waiting.

“We don’t tell him,” Steve declares after a moment. “Let’s keep this between you and me for now. It’s not even official university research at this point, so Coulson doesn’t have to know.”

Bucky nods decisively. “Agreed,” he says. Then his mouth quirks up mischievously as he continues. “Besides, we don’t even know if this will work in practice. Let’s get to that step before we get ahead of ourselves figuring out which people to tell about it.”

Steve chuckles and leans over again to kiss the corner of Bucky’s mouth. Honestly, it should be against the law for someone to be this beautiful.

“That’s what our sabbatical is for next semester, isn’t it,” Steve murmurs, kissing across to Bucky’s ear and down his neck, reveling in the gasp this pulls from his husband. “I mean, we’ve got our ‘official’ research projects but...” he trails off to bite into Bucky’s collarbone.

“Ssssshit, Stevie,” Bucky hisses, dropping his head back. But he isn’t complaining. Steve worries a hickey onto that spot, then licks over it, delighted to hear Bucky’s breathing speed up and go shallow.

“Can you come home with me now, Buck,” growls Steve, moving his lips back up Bucky’s neck to his ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you...” He bites gently on Bucky’s earlobe.

“ _Unnhhh_...” groans Bucky in response. A pause and then in a completely different voice: “Fuck, I’ve got a meeting with Coulson in ten minutes to finalize my sabbatical plans,” he whines. But he sits up and holds Steve’s head in his hands, eyes gleaming. Steve is panting and his gaze is dark as he looks at his husband.

“Tell ya what, Stevie,” Bucky says, falling back into the Brooklynese of their childhood. “I’ll stop at Thai Market on the way home and get some dumplings and green curry. And we’ll eat dinner and then...” he pauses as he puts the papers back in the folder and the folder back in his briefcase.

“And then...” his eyes go wicked. “You’ll have me for dessert.”

Steve inhales sharply. “Is that a promise, James Buchanan Barnes,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.

Bucky leans in for one last searing kiss before standing up.

“It’s not a promise,” he says lightly. “It’s a requirement.” Bucky catches his husband’s predatory smile out of the corner of his eye as he turns and heads for the door. _Fuck_ , he can’t wait to get home.

*****

Late that night, Steve and Bucky are lying cuddled up together in their bedroom in their apartment in Greenpoint. It’s quiet enough that they can hear people walking their dogs in McCarren Park across the street and the dull distant roar of traffic on the BQE.

Steve has made good on his promise to have Bucky as dessert, eating him out to orgasm before fucking him into next week. They’ve showered and changed the sheets, snuggling deliciously into the soft flannel as they wait to drift off to sleep.

Steve’s resonant voice comes suddenly out of the darkness.

“Buck,” he says cautiously. “Are you still awake? Buck...”

“No,” whispers Bucky, smiling, and he curves his back in an effort to get even closer to Steve, reveling in the heat between them. There are few things in this life that Bucky loves more than being the little spoon with his husband. “What is it, love...?”

Steve pulls Bucky closer, draping his huge arm over his husband’s shoulder and chest. There are few things in this life that Steve loves more than spooning his darling Bucky.

“After we...met up this afternoon and you showed me those new equations, I...I did some digging online,” Steve says, his breath tickling the side of Bucky’s neck. “And I think I...I think I found the house.”

Bucky sucks his breath through his teeth. “Really?” he says, threading his fingers through the huge hand near his face. “Where?”

“Up northwest of Ellenville, right outside the park,” Steve answers. “It’s a small place but on a big plot of land, out of town with no nearby neighbors, really long driveway. And there’s a big patio out back...”

“...for my telescope,” interrupts Bucky. “Light pollution?” he says a bit sharply. Then he feels Steve’s head shaking behind him.

“Almost none.” Steve chuckles. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, half an hour out of town, and it’s not like Ellenville is a big metropolis or anything.”

“Excellent,” Bucky smiles. “And it’s got a big...?”

“Yes.” Now it’s Steve’s turn to cut off his husband. “Really big, maybe thirty feet from the house. I can email the realtor tomorrow and find out if we can take a look at it this weekend.” He nuzzles his face into his partner’s neck, breathing in the spiciness of his shampoo and body wash and the earthier, more subtle scent that is _just Bucky_.

Bucky sighs happily. “It sounds perfect, Steve,” he whispers, squeezing his husband’s hand. “Let’s go check it out. I love you.”

“Mmm-hmm...” Steve hums. “Love...you....”

Two minutes later Bucky can hear the deep breathing that indicates Steve is asleep. He smiles, snuggles closer, and closes his eyes, surrendering to the darkness.

*****

“Hey baby, I’m heading into town, need anything?” Steve calls from the front entryway as he picks up his keys. There’s a pause for a moment before a voice pipes up from the dining room in the back.

“We need some more wiring for the energy field controls and I think the backup generator needs gas. And we’re almost out of wine,” Bucky yells. Then his voice modulates as he walks into the entryway and closes in on his husband. “And will you get me some more of those Cadbury caramel eggs, they’ll be gone in a few days after Easter.” He looks hopefully but a little shamefacedly at Steve.

Steve grins. “Of course I’ll get you some of those, sugar,” he says, grabbing Bucky and kissing the top of his head. “And I’ll get gas. And wine. The wiring came by UPS earlier this morning. I’ll hook everything up when I get back. Want me to see if I can get a bunny for the experiment tomorrow, in honor of Sunday?” His eyes sparkle.

Bucky shakes his head. “We’ve got Rufus for tomorrow,” he says emphatically, jerking his head toward the backyard and the enclosure and coop where their rooster and two chickens reside. “He’s all trained to walk in a straight line and everything.” He sighs, blowing hair out of his face.

Steve looks at Bucky with concern, noting his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes. “You OK? Y’wanna come with me to town, take a little break? I’ll get you an ice cream at Stewart’s, we can do donuts in the truck in the high school parking lot...” His voice is teasing and Bucky’s heart turns over. Steve turns 40 later this summer but in many ways he’s still the scrawny shit-stirring teenager at Bishop Laughlin High School that Bucky fell in love with all those years ago.

“Nah, that’s OK, love, thanks,” Bucky says lightly. “I want to double-check these numbers and settings for tomorrow. Make sure everything’s set for Rufus.” He steps forward and cups Steve’s face in his hand, laying a gentle kiss on his lips.

“And I’m OK, Steve, really,” Bucky continues. “Just didn’t sleep well last night because I’m so excited. This is huge.”

Steve leans his cheek into Bucky’s hand and then turns his head to kiss his palm. He grabs Bucky’s hand and squeezes it.

“I know, sweetheart, it _is_ huge,” says Steve softly. “If it works...”

“...and it will work,” Bucky interrupts, resolute.

“...then we need to figure out what to do after that,” says Steve. “And...what to do if...if...things go wrong.” Steve’s voice is shot through with bitterness. Bucky shakes his head. He needs to get Steve off this track, and fast.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it...or should I say...open that portal?” Now it’s Bucky’s turn to look mischievous. He elbows Steve in the side. Steve snorts.

“You are _The Worst,_ ” he faux-snarls, pulling Bucky close and giving him one last kiss. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.” He turns and strides out the front door. In a minute Bucky hears the engine of the old pickup turn over and the sound of tires down their long gravel driveway.

Bucky pads into the kitchen to grab some chips and a glass of water and sits back down at the dining room table to review his calculations. But after a few minutes he gets distracted and sits back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. It’s usually longish and tousled but he hasn’t gotten a haircut in the four months since they relocated upstate, so now it’s halfway to his shoulders and Steve teases him about becoming a L’Oreal model. Not that Steve’s complaining, as he loves running his fingers through it and it’s now even easier for him to pull Bucky’s head back as he’s pounding into his ass.

Bucky grins as he thinks about his husband. Steve has been an ideal partner in the twenty years they’ve been together, and no less so as they’ve embarked on this wild and unlikely research project. In fact, it was Steve’s published research into the quantum realm, for which he’s been justly praised and which got him tenure a number of years ago, that had sparked the idea in both of them of alternate universes. 

It had sounded completely nuts when they first thought of it a while back, but they had worked on the theoretical side off and on when they’d had free time from their official duties at Columbia. Bucky has four bound notebooks in the bookshelf in their bedroom, completely crammed with notes and equations. And then he made that breakthrough last fall that had solidified their plans for this sabbatical...and now it’s really happening.

Bucky looks out the dining room window toward the huge garage on the north side of the house. It’s the main reason they took a six-month lease on this particular house — well, that and the fact that the house is half an hour from the nearest town with no near neighbors and very little light pollution, which helps with Bucky’s “official” astrophysics research that he’s supposed to be focusing on during this sabbatical.

The garage really _is_ enormous — it’s big enough to house two good-sized moving trucks, with a pair of sturdy automatic doors for easy access, plus a smaller human-sized entrance on the side of the building closest to the house. Steve and Bucky have installed an electronic keypad on that door with a code based on their wedding anniversary. The same code opens the big garage doors as needed.

But there are no delivery trucks in the garage, and no treasure either. Bucky shakes his head thinking about the treasure nonsense. Their favorite grocery cashier, who is just out of high school and also by repute the biggest gossip in Ellenville, told them a couple of weeks ago about the rumor going around town that they had gold and precious minerals for their experiments locked away in the house and the garage. Steve and Bucky had looked at her incredulously and then laughed.

“No treasure, Caitlyn,” Bucky had told her gently between chuckles. “Just a telescope and some electromagnetic lab equipment. Worth absolutely nothing on the black market.”

That statement to Caitlyn wasn’t _strictly_ true, Bucky thinks to himself as he stares at the garage. The telescope is outside on the back patio, not in the garage, and the electromagnetic lab equipment in the garage is more impressive than you’d expect. It looks kind of like the bigsound board that they use in theaters for concerts, and it’s tucked into the back corner of the garage.

The central space of the garage is dominated by two white frames, set about ten feet apart. They look for all the world like airport metal detectors facing off, and if you walked between them you wouldn’t notice anything amiss. But if you looked through the frames on one side or the other...

Bucky shakes his head and turns back toward his work. The truth is that you wouldn’t see anything if you looked through the frames from the side, just blackness yawning away into the distance. But that blackness is definitely not the space between the frames, and it may not be on Earth—or in this universe—at all.

Steve and Bucky first saw the blackness a couple of weeks ago, after a month of constructing the setup and two months of playing with calculations to get the energy and frequencies right. There’s a solar array hidden behind the garage that powers the system within, and they got a backup generator to keep it powered at night and on really cloudy days.

When it first appeared, they just observed the darkness, took extensive notes, and stabilized the frequencies so they couldn’t be altered by vibration or human error. Then they started passing things into the darkness — first a tennis ball, then a baseball, then a basketball. All the balls rolled into the darkness, disappeared, and came back out through the other portal.

Steve and Bucky studied them, took measurements, weighed them, tested their mass, and all of them were exactly the same after passing through the portal...except that after one pass the basketball was slightly damp with what appeared at the time to be water. They tested the liquid (carefully) and found that it had a molecular structure unlike anything found in our solar system.

Now they’re preparing to send Rufus the rooster through the portal tomorrow, to see what happens with a living creature. Bucky is very much conflicted—he hates experiments involving animals and is always happy that astrophysics doesn’t have to deal with this moral dilemma. But last night when he’d volunteered to walk through the portal first instead of Rufus, Steve’s eyes had darkened and he’d gone all Mama Bear and said _absolutely_ _fuckin’ not, Buck._

And he’d grabbed Bucky and manhandled him into the bedroom for an athletic round of possessive angry sex, which Bucky has to admit he found (and still finds) extremely hot. Even if it means his ass is sore and his hips ache a little today.

Both Bucky and Steve are resolutely not thinking ahead to the implications of their discovery, which, if proven and replicated by peers, would absolutely change the world. And neither of them are naive enough to think that the authorities would allow their findings to go public so that other scientists (or foreign governments) could create their own portals into the Unknown.

As soon as they tell Phil Coulson, the head of their department at Columbia, he’d be on the phone to Washington. And even Fury, though he’s retired and living in relative seclusion deep in the San Gabriel mountains, would feel it necessary to call up his old buddies at the Pentagon and the FBI. The only people Steve and Bucky trust with this discovery right now are each other.

Steve, especially, reacts poorly to the idea of telling anyone else; when Bucky even touches on the subject, his eyes narrow and his jaw clenches and he says roughly, “Not yet.” Bucky doesn’t blame him at all. Steve’s earlier quantum research was actually more groundbreaking than even his articles suggested, positing a way to reach the quantum realm. But Coulson and the Feds censored that part of Steve’s study and moved all the related materials to “a secure location” outside of DC.

Steve managed to keep a copy of part of his theoretical research and passed it to Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne, who at the time were doing independent quantum research and not subject to university or government or corporate protocols. They’ve made a lot of progress and Steve is happy for them, but wishes he could be involved. Steve brushed all this off at the time and went on to other research, but Bucky knows he’s still bitter.

Bucky shifts in his chair. He really hopes everything goes well tomorrow. Maybe before Steve gets home he’ll go out to the chicken enclosure and make sure Rufus can still walk that straight line. The rooster should be able to do it, especially with a whole apple on the other side of the pen. He’ll make sure to have an apple for Rufus when they do the experiment — it’s very motivating. Bucky sighs and starts trying to refocus on his notes, waiting for Steve to return from town.

The sun is going down and Bucky is deep into study flow when he registers the sound of the truck crunching up the drive. The part of his brain not currently absorbed in theoretical physics equations expects that Steve will come barging into the house right away, and that part is surprised when it doesn’t happen. Instead, the side door of the garage opens and closes and there’s silence for a good half an hour before Steve reappears and finally does burst through the front door, carrying a grocery bag in one arm and a liquor store box in the other.

Steve sets his parcels on the kitchen counter and comes over quickly to hug his husband. He holds on tightly and for longer than usual, and Bucky looks up from his notes, surprised.

“Everything OK? How was town?” He catches Steve’s glance, which is both stormy and stubborn, a combination Bucky knows well. In response, Steve kneels down, takes Bucky’s face in his hands, and kisses him thoroughly and with tongue. Now Bucky is worried. He runs his hand through Steve’s short hair and caresses the soft skin at the back of his neck.

“Stevie. Love.” Bucky’s voice is gentle. “What’s going on.” Steve huffs out a breath like he’s going to bluster through this and then appears to relent.

“Caitlyn told me there was a strange car in town yesterday,” Steve says softly, his voice a quiet rumble. “A black sedan. New York plates. Two guys in suits but trying to act casual, asking questions about ‘any excitement’ in the area lately. At the diner, at the grocery store, at the gas station. Caitlyn said that no one said anything about us, but...”

“...but the government may already be interested in what we’re doing, or trying to do, out here,” Bucky finishes for him. He sighs. “Coulson?”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe. And maybe it’s just me being paranoid. But I don’t think so. In any case, I’ve made some... _improvements_ to the security in the garage. We should be the only ones who can open any of the doors. And at least we’ll hear anyone coming up the driveway and we can be prepared.” His face looks momentarily grim but softens as he looks at his husband.

Bucky nods. “Excellent,” he says firmly and resolutely. “You’ll have to show me the new security later.” He and Steve stand up together and hug tightly. Bucky feels his heart swell in his chest. They’re an inseparable and an invincible team and always have been, against high school bullies, against asshole undergraduate professors, against tenure committees, against the government. Against the world.

Steve lays one, two, three smacking kisses on Bucky’s lips. “My darling love,” Steve says in an almost-growl. “What would I do if I lost you.” It’s something that Steve says to Bucky often. It is not really a question.

“You’d come and find me, of course,” responds Bucky in a deceptively light voice. It’s their usual patter, something they’ve repeated to each other over the decades, but it’s taken on a new resonance in light of today’s news.

Steve smiles. “Damn straight,” he says.

“Now,” Bucky says, his mouth curling up on one side. “Are you gonna get me some wine or do I have to do all the work around here?”

Steve chuckles and swats Bucky on the ass. “Anything for you, Your Highness,” he mocks, andthey pretend to wrestle as they move into the kitchen.

*****

“Holy shit, Steve!” Bucky’s voice is still incredulous, even hours later. “I mean, really. _Holy shit!_ ”

Steve grins and squeezes his husband’s hand. “I know, right??”

They’ve just finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. They thought they’d be too excited to eat after finishing the portal experiment with Rufus, but hunger eventually caught up with them and Bucky whipped up some pasta and bolognese, which they hoovered down like starving men, washed down with the Beaujolais that Steve bought in town yesterday.

“I can’t believe how well it worked,” Bucky says wonderingly, his eyes starry. “Rufus was so good, he did so well.” The rooster is now safely back in the coop and tucked up for the night.

“I know,” affirms Steve. “He did great. We’ll check him out tomorrow, confirm that everything’s fine, but it seems like there are no health issues or abrasions, and no changes at the molecular level.” He looks at Bucky. “Thanks for being the Rufus manager,” he says softly.

Bucky looks back at Steve, his eyes still alight with excitement. “Thanks for managing the settings and doing the filming,” Bucky replies, rubbing Steve’s shoulder. They’d reviewed the videos after locking up the garage, and there it was — Rufus disappearing into the portal entrance, and coming out the other side to peck at his apple treat.

It was a huge moment in their experiment, witnessing a living being pass through the portals and come back out the other side. Bucky is still giddy with it. He’s trying not to look ahead to when he can go through the frame into the darkness, but he can’t help it. The spirit of exploration rises up in him, washes through him, and he looks at Steve and sees the same expression.

They look at each other for a full minute, faces flushed, eyes shining. Bucky looks at Steve and his heart clenches. He’s always admired his husband so much, and right now it seems that Steve has expanded and grown, filling up Bucky’s vision with his strength and his passion and his integrity and his fucking jawline, which ought to be illegal. He chokes up a little and feels tears prick at his eyes.

Steve’s eyes darken as he looks at Bucky. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he rumbles, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair and down his cheek. “You’ve always been so fucking beautiful.”

“Steve,” Bucky manages to rasp out, and that’s it. Steve’s _done_. He crashes his mouth into Bucky’s and moves his giant hand to the back of Bucky’s neck, where he can keep his husband where he wants him.

Bucky melts into Steve’s touch and opens up to Steve immediately. After a few minutes he gladly allows Steve to manhandle him down the hall into the bedroom.

“Take off your shoes and socks and then stand still for me, baby,” says Steve in a voice that is barely more than a murmur and yet still a command. Shivering, Bucky does so and then stands and waits, his skin electric with anticipation. Steve doesn’t often get into this controlling mindset, but when he does the result is always out of this world.

Steve waits for a moment, scanning Bucky up and down, a faint smile on his otherwise stern face.

“Very good, Bucky,” Steve mutters in that same voice. “Very, _very_ good.”

Bucky preens under the praise but takes care to stay still. Slowly, very slowly, Steve reaches out and begins to undress Bucky from top to bottom, peppering his husband’s skin with kisses as it’s revealed. He takes off Bucky’s sweatshirt and t-shirt, kissing his neck, shoulders, chest and stomach. And if Steve pays special attention to Bucky’s neck, nipples, and navel, well, who can blame him.

Steve carefully unbuttons Bucky’s jeans and pulls them along with his boxer briefs down to his ankles. He kisses Bucky’s hipbones and lower abs and down both legs, everywhere but his crotch, taking his time, worshipping Bucky’s body.

“Step out of these for me, Buck,” rumbles Steve, and Bucky complies. By this time Bucky’s tingling all over and dizzy with lust, and his cock stands out rigidly hard between his legs, a pearl of pre-come shining on the tip. Steve kneels in front of Bucky just looking at his dick for a moment before leaning forward to kiss the head and dart his tongue out to lick up the pre-come. Bucky’s breath catches in his throat but he still doesn’t move, knowing well what the rewards for being a good boy will be. Steve stands up in one fluid movement.

“So good for me, Buck,” Steve whispers in Bucky’s ear, licking down his neck. “Kiss me now.” He moves over to lick into Bucky’s mouth and Bucky kisses back enthusiastically but otherwise doesn’t move. Suddenly Steve pulls back and scans Bucky up and down again.

Bucky feels like he’s floating now, tethered to Earth only by Steve’s voice. There’s nothing for him to do besides obey his husband. And wait.

“Now, Bucky,” says Steve, standing ramrod straight and staring intensely at his partner. “Turn around and pull the comforter and sheets back for me, _please_.” His voice is polite but still thoroughly dominant.

Bucky follows this directive immediately, turning around and bending over to rearrange the bedclothes. As he finishes he feels a huge, calloused hand on his back keeping him from standing up straight.

“Stay right there, baby,” Steve orders, and Bucky freezes, cradling his head in his arms on the mattress with his ass in the air and his balls hanging heavy between his legs. His gut clenches with anticipation. There’s a moment of silence and then Bucky feels Steve’s warm, naked body draped over his back, his cock pressing against the cleft of Bucky’s ass.

“So warm and compliant, Buck, just like I like you,” Steve says in his ear before biting hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Bucky inhales sharply but forces himself not to move. He feels Steve slide down his back and then Steve’s hot breath on his ass, and gasps again as Steve spreads his cheeks and circles his hole gently with one finger.

“Oh god, so beautiful,” murmurs Steve, and gently kisses the hole. Bucky hears the splortch of lube from the bedside table. He can’t help but groan a little as a thick finger slowly breaches him and starts pushing its way inside.

“You can make noise, baby,” Steve says, and Bucky can feel his breath hot on his ass as he finger fucks him, so his face must be right up close. “ _Ohhhh_ this little hole is so hungry, maybe it wants another finger? Answer me, sugar.”

“Yesssss,” Bucky hisses, resisting the urge to press backwards into Steve’s hand. “Oh fuck yes.” A second finger joins the first, and soon a third and Bucky is reveling in the feeling of being so full, but it’s not enough and...

“Please,” says Bucky in a very small voice.

“What’s that, sweetheart? I couldn’t hear you,” Steve says, shoving all three fingers as far up Bucky’s ass as he can manage. Bucky shrieks and says it again in a louder voice.

“Please, Steve,” he begs. “ _Please_ fuck me. I need it. I’ve been such a good boy.”

“Yes, you have,” Steve allows. He pulls his fingers out and Bucky hears the bottle open again and knows that Steve is lubing himself up. There’s a moment of hesitation and Bucky expects to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his entrance, but...

“On the bed, Buck,” orders Steve, rubbing slick fingers around Bucky’s open hole because he just can’t keep his hands off his husband. “I want to see you laid out under me while I fuck you.”

Bucky instantly complies, crawling onto the bed to lie on his back. He spreads his legs wide so Steve can see all of him, take all of him. He is so ready to be taken.

Steve’s eyes flash as he quickly climbs onto Bucky, lines his dick up, and plunges it in with one smooth stroke to pause at the top. Bucky cries out and throws his head back. Steve’s dick is so big, so thick, fills him so well and so fully...

“Oh Buck, you are so beautiful just surrendering yourself to me like this,” Steve says roughly, and he pulls back and starts to fuck Bucky in earnest with long, heavy strokes.

If Bucky thought he was floating before, now he’s soaring, taking wing amongst the stars and seeing galaxies behind his eyelids. Steve has angled his cock so it’s hitting Bucky’s prostate both in and out, and Bucky feels his heat rising through his gut and knows he is close. The way Steve is groaning and chanting Bucky’s name indicates to Bucky that his husband is close as well. And then...

“Look at me. Look at me, honey,” says Steve urgently, and Bucky’s eyes flutter open. His husband is looming over him, a light sheen of sweat covering his entire perfect body, and it’s the most beautiful vision Bucky’s ever seen. He’ll never ever get tired of it.

“Come for me now, love,” Steve growls, and speeds up his pace, slamming hard into Bucky’s ass. Bucky feels the base of his prick start to ache and the sensation deepening and he comes with a howl, spurting streaks all over his abdomen. As he shivers from the aftershocks he feels Steve shudder and come deep inside him with a grunt, filling him with wet heat and it’s the best feeling in the world.

Bucky looks up at Steve with huge eyes and Steve looks down at him as he trembles from holding himself up in the afterglow.

“I love you,” Bucky says softly, touching Steve’s face and rejoicing in the warmth and stretch and friction where they’re still joined.

“I love you, Buck,” answers Steve, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “I love you so much.”

An hour later they’re snuggled under the sheets and blankets in the dark, holding each other close. The spring sky is cold and clear, and stars twinkle in the inky blackness.

“I wonder what it’s like,” Bucky muses. “What lies beyond the portal, I mean,” he adds unnecessarily.

Steve huffs a little and draws him closer. “Me too, Buck,” he says.

“I can’t wait to go in and find out,” says Bucky excitedly, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. “I just can’t wait. We should bring a phone or a camera, though, to record everything so we remember it all when we come back.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you suppose we’ll find the fountain of youth? Or magic apples that cure all your ills? Or that everyone over there is exactly like us except their skin is green?”

Steve laughs at his adorable, ridiculous husband who sounds like he’s about ten years old right now. Then he shakes his head.

“We need to do some more tests and make some more preparations before we head in there, Bucky,” he says. “It’s gonna take a few weeks, I think.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to hesitate before speaking again. “And Buck, I’m not losing you in this world, and I’m _definitely_ not losing you in an alternate dimension.” He turns to kiss Bucky on the top of his head. “And those magic apples were in Narnia, love, not in an alternate universe.”

Bucky kisses Steve under the chin.

“Well, Narnia is technically an alternate universe,” he says, and Steve can tell he’s grinning from the timbre of his voice. “And of course you’re not going to lose me, _that’s_ not happening,” Bucky says dismissively. “But this is so exciting! When I was a kid I dreamt about being an astronaut and going to Mars on a spaceship.” Bucky stretches his feet against Steve’s and pauses for a moment. “This might be even better,” he admits.

Steve kisses Bucky’s head again and holds him tight. He’s known about Bucky’s dreams of space travel since they were both kids back in Red Hook. He’s excited too, but by nature he’s a little more cautious, a little more practical, a little more cynical than Bucky, so he’s also a little more nervous about what lies in the darkness beyond that portal.

Steve thinks also of the agents Caitlyn told him about asking questions in town the other day, as likely as not representing those who would seek to use Steve and Bucky’s discovery for power or material gain. In the wake of today’s breakthrough with Rufus, he’s doubly glad he reinforced the security on the garage and set up that...other arrangement in the far corner. In the best case scenario, they’ll never have to use it, but Steve likes to be prepared.

Bucky’s breathing is slowing and it seems he’s asleep. But as Steve moves to pull Bucky even closer, he hears a quiet whisper, almost inaudible, in the settling dark.

“Love...you...my darling Steve,” Bucky manages to get out before he goes quiet. As earlier at the apogee of their lovemaking, Steve feels the tears gather and leak out of the corner of his eyes. His heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest. He’d do _anything_ for Bucky, anything to keep him safe and happy. Anything to keep them together. 

Steve takes a deep breath and whispers back, “My dearest sweetheart, I love you too.” Then he closes his eyes, surrendering to the darkness.

*****

A cool spring night in mid-May. The deepest part of the night, when the darkness is complete and the stars are veiled on and off by passing clouds.

Steve wakes out of a dead sleep to the sound of two gunshots. Did they really happen or did he dream them? It was such a realistic dream, his dream. He dreamt he and Bucky were going through the portal into the darkness. That hasn’t happened yet — he and Bucky are planning to try it in the next few days, now that they’ve done several test runs with Rufus. The rooster has come out of the portal exit with no changes. No changes, except once he was covered with that same water-like liquid as the basketball. And after that, Rufus was...healthier? His feathers were shinier and his squawking louder and his red blood cell count is off the charts. Steve and Bucky are unable to account for the changes scientifically, but wonder between themselves if it has something to do with that mysterious liquid. 

But...but...those gunshots. What is happening? Steve has no idea what’s going on but his instinctive self has catapulted him out of bed and thrown an overshirt over his t-shirt and pajama bottoms before he’s fully awake. A portion of his brain registers that Bucky isn’t in bed with him but he shoves that observation aside as he darts into the main part of the house to figure out what’s going on.

Steve hears muffled voices in the entryway and the front door slams shut. He runs to the door to see who’s leaving the house. The agents who were seen in town a couple of weeks ago? Have they found something? Steve turns his head toward the garage but there are no signs of disturbance there. He tears out to the front porch and sees the shadows of two male figures, one of them carrying something bulky and awkward, jump into a waiting pickup truck and tear off down the drive.

 _Fucking treasure hunters,_ Steve thinks wryly as he re-enters the house and walks cautiously into the living room. _Or just run-of-the-mill thieves_. He notes that the flat screen TV over the fireplace is missing, wires sticking out of the wall, and shakes his head. He hopes the homeowner has good insurance.

A quiet groan and a whispered “Steve...” breaks the silence and he stands still, electrified.

_Bucky._

In the excitement Steve had forgotten that his husband wasn’t in bed. And now he’s here...somewhere.

Steve moves carefully to a side table and turns on the light. And then he sees it.

Bucky is lying in the middle of the living room carpet, staring up at the ceiling and breathing hard. He’s wearing his usual t-shirt and sleep pants and on his torso...

Steve rushes to kneel by his husband and assess the situation. Two bullet wounds, one right through the fleshy part of the upper left arm, bloody but manageable. The other...

_Fuck._

The other wound is in the left abdomen and it is bleeding copiously. In this light it’s impossible to tell what internal organs the bullet has hit. Steve was an EMT during undergrad and he finds himself trying to remember his basic anatomy to gauge the possible damage. Anything to block out the horror of seeing the person he loves best in the world injured and in pain.

As if on automatic pilot, Steve rips off his overshirt, tears a strip off the front, and binds it around Bucky’s damaged arm. That should take care of that problem. For now.

As Steve finishes that task, Bucky gasps and throws his head back. The gunshot wound overflows with dark red blood, which spills onto the living room carpet.

_Shit._

Steve balls up the rest of his overshirt and shoves it against the wound as gently as he can, but even then the blood soaks through the folds of the fabric. He thinks about getting Bucky to the local hospital, which is only maybe 40 minutes away if he drives really fast. But is that enough time? Can they make it? And is Ellenville Regional Hospital even equipped to deal with this kind of injury?

Steve holds the shirt to the wound, paralyzed with indecision, his brain whirling, until...

“Steve...” Bucky croaks, and tries to lift his head. His face is drained of color and his eyes are enormous and along with the shock and fear, these eyes that Steve loves so much shine with love and with a desperate entreaty.

“Steve...” whispers Bucky again, and reaches out with his good hand to grab Steve’s muscled forearm in a weak grip. “Steve,” Bucky says again, a little louder, a little more assertive.

And then Steve realizes what Bucky is asking of him, what he has to do. They’ll never make it to the hospital in time. It won’t work. But there is another option.

As the enormity of this option hits him, Steve chokes up and panics, but only for a moment. The next moment sees him strengthen his resolve. His face turns grim and his eyes go steely. He has to do this. For his husband. For Bucky.

“OK, my love, OK,” Steve says soothingly. “I’ve got you. Everything’s gonna be OK.” As gently as he can, he lifts Bucky off the floor into his arms. Bucky’s head lolls against Steve’s right pec and Steve feels the warm wetness of his partner’s blood against his midsection.

Steve quickly picks his way out the front door and down the steps of the porch to turn left toward the garage. As he walks, treading carefully to avoid jarring his husband or stepping on any sharp objects in his bare feet, he’s thankful he talked to Caitlyn the other day while she was on break from her grocery shift.

Steve had asked her to take care of Rufus and the chickens if anything happened to him and Bucky. Caitlyn’s eyes had gotten very wide and then very narrow, and with pursed lips she’d agreed gruffly, before barreling into him with a fierce hug and then running off, sniffling. So that’s all sorted.

They reach the small side door to the garage, half-hidden in the shadows of the night, and Steve clenches his jaw as he realizes that it’ll be necessary to activate his emergency arrangement after all. He unlocks the door with the keypad and steps into the vast dark expanse of the garage.

The garage door lights blink on automatically as they enter, infusing the space with a pale yellowish glow. The portals stand facing each other, tall and white, as if in a standoff. The lights of the control panel glimmer in the far back corner, and in the near back corner...

Steve clutches Bucky closer to him and approaches his emergency setup. It’s hidden under a small tarp, which Steve now kicks aside to reveal a stack of firelighters attached to a long fuse. There’s a long Bic grill starter hidden in a crevasse under the nearby window, and Steve grabs it and lights the fuse with some difficulty, as he refuses to put Bucky down.

The fuse lights easily enough and Steve moves away to face the nearer white doorframe. As always, the view through the portal is black, even blacker than the night outside that surrounds them.

“Hey Bucky,” says Steve gently, looking down into his husband’s face. Bucky looks up at him. His breath is shallower now and his eyes are a little glassy, but he looks at Steve with such love and trust that Steve can hardly bear it.

Steve flicks his head up and Bucky turns his head with some difficulty to see the opening of the portal looming up in front of them. He turns back to Steve, looking like an angel, a serene smile on his face, so beatific that Steve can’t help but smile back.

“Can’t wait. I love you, Steve,” breathes Bucky in barely more than a whisper.

Steve’s eyes go shiny and blurry and he’s so intent on the love of his life that he barely notices the firelighters catch with a WHOOSH and the back of the garage light up in a wall of fire.

“I love you, Bucky,” Steve rasps out. “More than anything in the world. _I love you..._ ”

Steve leans over to plant the gentlest of kisses on cool lips. And then he carries Bucky through the portal entrance.

He does not come out the other side. Within a few minutes the flames engulf the garage, lighting up the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so I know this is...tough to take. But I like to stay positive when I imagine what happened on the other side of the door. And at least they’re together! 
> 
> This story is inspired by the video for “Oh Baby” by LCD Soundsystem, and the title is taken from the same song. I saw this video and it hit me hard and the writing just poured out in a few days, like I had to get it all out. Catharsis, maybe? Seems like there’s a lot of need for catharsis right now, just so we can make it through these difficult times. 
> 
> I am not a physicist and in fact was mediocre at high school physics, so please pardon any errors about physics and engineering in the story. Fury’s Theory is, of course, something I made up.
> 
> This story is dedicated to my life partner, Mr. Bitters, and he’ll know why. 
> 
> I always love getting comments so please leave me a note if you feel so inclined! 💜


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